Chapter 331: Unexpected Risk
Before long, two wagons pulled by horned horses rolled in from outside the military port, each bearing the silver crescent-and-star crest of the Lambert family.
Besides members of the Lambert family, several Darkley City policemen dressed in white tights and red military coats accompanied them — they were there to investigate the incident at the military port.
In the Kingdom of Bryston, only nobles, active soldiers, and policemen were permitted to wear uniforms resembling the red-coated "lobster soldiers" of old England in the original world.
"Mr. Wayne, please get in the carriage. I'll take you out. Otherwise, people from the Circle of Earth might stop you for questioning," Browne Lambert said quietly, glancing toward the distance.
Zhou Ning nodded, not rejecting Browne Lambert's goodwill. He had no desire to invite trouble. The military port sat in the northwest corner of Darkland, once territory of the Sea God Church. After the church's decline, it had retreated to the Ocean Kingdom of Rivendell, leaving its former holdings under the control of the Earth Goddess Church and its transcendent faction, the Circle of Earth.
If the Sunwatchers ranked a one in difficulty, then the Circle of Earth would be a ten — once entangled with them, even escaping with your skin intact would be considered lucky. Zhou Ning had suffered at their hands plenty of times back when he was still a player.
Fortunately, their intelligence department seemed rather ineffective — like movie policemen who always showed up after the credits rolled.
After Zhou Ning climbed into the carriage, it sped through the snow toward Levia Street without pause.
Compared to the shabby carriage of the Sunwatchers, this one was far more luxurious, its floor covered with thick brown bear fur rugs and furnished with an elegant wine cabinet.
By now, Browne Lambert had recovered the proud composure befitting his family motto. He took a bottle of Crista Island champagne from the cabinet and poured a glass for each of them. Then he began asking Zhou Ning and Spark for more details.
Cristatia Island lay southeast of Bryston. It was notorious for its unpredictable weather — droughts, downpours, and frost all in the same year — yet, strangely, the grapes grown there produced exceptionally fine wine. At its peak, a single bottle could fetch as much as 1,800 Vecktas, and drinking it sometimes even increased one's mental attributes — or so Zhou Ning had discovered in his previous life through testing in Sunken Star Beneath the Water.
Zhou Ning took a sip, smiling. Luck was with him this time — his mental power had indeed increased by one point. Then, facing Browne's questions, he answered as fully as he could. The facts spoke for themselves; there was no need to hide or lie.
He recounted everything: Joshua Lambert's death after the auction, Earl Robbins's likely involvement, and his own experiences in the Allsop Marsh.
With Browne Lambert's keen mind, it wouldn't be hard for him to deduce that both Earl Robbins and the Order of Solitude were deeply suspicious. Given Browne's influence in Bryston's political arena, perhaps he could even shift the current situation a little.
"Karl Robbins?" Browne Lambert's eyes widened slightly before he fell silent, deep in thought. He said nothing more for the rest of the ride.
After a while, the carriage stopped at the corner of Levia Street. Zhou Ning declined the father and son's offer to escort him further. He only took an umbrella from the carriage, opened it with a snap, and stepped out, the snow and wind shut out above him.
Using Observation Haki, he could already sense that a heavy rain was imminent.
Zhou Ning chuckled. The scene felt strangely familiar.
The first night he'd crossed into the Apocalypse World, Keen West had pulled the same trick — it all seemed like a lifetime ago.
Almost at once, the snow overhead shifted seamlessly into a torrential downpour. Raindrops the size of beans pelted down as Zhou Ning strolled through it beneath his umbrella, heading toward the West Lin General Store two blocks away.
On the way, he happened to pass a charity orphanage near Levia Street that he vaguely remembered. He stopped and looked toward it from afar.
"Hemingway Street No. 179…"
In his sight stood a building that was almost an exact replica of the Ascenders' structure he'd seen in the mural. Even in the pouring rain, a few ragged children were playing in front, chanting the words to "Who Is the Weather Child."
On the roof, several men in worn white linen shirts were patching leaks in the rain. So this was what people called "work-for-relief"?
"Who's the Weather Child? Wind, rain, thunder, lightning! Who's the Weather Child? Mist, dew, cloud, frost! Haha, I'm the biggest, I'm the Weather Child!" a little girl shouted gleefully.
Inside Zhou Ning's mind, Molly spoke: "This place carries faint traces of death. Just like Ian and John — those children are tainted by misfortune."
Zhou Ning nodded in agreement. His sharp instincts could indeed sense a faint, nauseating aura of death lingering in the air.
He'd have to ask Sherlock later what exactly was going on in these orphanages.
Just as Zhou Ning turned to leave, a sudden crash echoed — a roof tile broke loose, followed by a heavy thud. One of the men repairing the roof had slipped in the rain and fallen. There was no sound after that — just blood spreading beneath his body, snaking its way into the gutter. Zhou Ning hadn't even had time to react.
He was dead.
Chaos broke out immediately. The little girl who had just been laughing ran toward him, crying out, "Papa! Papa!"
A gaunt middle-aged woman rushed out from the orphanage. Seeing the scene, she froze, then broke down sobbing uncontrollably. Losing the breadwinner meant the entire family was doomed to hardship. The little girl stood beside her, tears streaming down her face, utterly lost.
Zhou Ning exhaled deeply and removed his hat. Moments ago, he had witnessed noble luxury; now, he faced this. A game? How could anyone treat this world as just a game?
The little girl suddenly felt something on her head — Zhou Ning had placed his hat there. Looking up, she saw him smiling gently. "Don't cry, child. Don't cry."
He reached into his coat, pulled out his wallet, and handed the middle-aged woman a dozen Vecktas notes and a few Roshen coins. His voice was soft. "Don't stay here. Use this to bury your husband, then leave this place. Find some work, anything at all."
"Thank you, sir. The Sun Goddess will surely bless you." The woman looked stunned for a moment before tears welled up again, and she began thanking him over and over.
Zhou Ning waved his hand dismissively. It wasn't that he didn't want to give more money — but judging from the looks around them, giving too much would only paint a target on their backs.
After leaving the orphanage, Zhou Ning's expression grew heavy. Clearly, though the accident had seemed random, it wasn't entirely coincidence. The foul weather, the presence of unknown supernatural forces, and the pull of misfortune had all conspired to cause it.
In places he couldn't see, there must have been countless more tragedies like this one.
Such was Darkland — cold and unforgiving reality.
Ten minutes later, Zhou Ning arrived at the West Lin General Store and pushed the door open to enter.